ht watches. The first object
that met his eyes was the parcel on the table, and, seeing his name
inscribed thereon, he made no scruple to open it.

The sun flashed upon a lens of surprising magnitude, polished to such a
smoothness that the eye could scarcely meet its reflections. Here was a
crystal in whose depths were to be seen more wonders than had been
revealed by the crystals of all the Cagliostros.

Swithin, hot with joyousness, took this treasure to his telescope
manufactory at the homestead; then he started off for the Great House.

On gaining its precincts he felt shy of calling, never having received
any hint or permission to do so; while Lady Constantine's mysterious
manner of leaving the parcel seemed to demand a like mysteriousness in
his approaches to her. All the afternoon he lingered about uncertainly,
in the hope of intercepting her on her return from a drive, occasionally
walking with an indifferent lounge across glades commanded by the
windows, that if she were in-doors she might know he was near. But she
did not show herself during the daylight. Still impressed by her playful
secrecy he carried on the same idea after dark, by returning to the house
and passing through the garden door on to the lawn front, where he sat on
the parapet that breasted the terrace.

Now she frequently came out here for a melancholy saunter after dinner,
and to-night was such an occasion. Swithin went forward, and met her at
nearly the spot where he had dropped the lens some nights earlier.

'I have come to see you, Lady Constantine. How did the glass get on my
table?'

She laughed as lightly as a girl; that he had come to her in this way was
plainly no offence thus far.

'Perhaps it was dropped from the clouds by a bird,' she said.

'Why should you be so good to me?' he cried.

'One good turn deserves another,' answered she.

'Dear Lady Constantine! Whatever discoveries result from this shall be
ascribed to you as much as to me. Where should I have been without your
gift?'

'You would possibly have accomplished your purpose just the same, and
have been so much the nobler for your struggle against ill-luck. I hope
that now you will be able to proceed with your large telescope as if
nothing had happened.'

'O yes, I will, certainly. I am afraid I showed too much feeling, the
reverse of stoical, when the accident occurred. That was not very noble
of me.'

'There is nothing unnatural in such feeling